Bubblegum Zone: Parabellum
by Rallye
Summary: First Chapter with the introduction of Rally and Chris into the world of Bubblegum Zone. Includes characters from BGC: Next Gen and Bubblegum Avatar. Eighth version of this story before it was finally approved.
1. Chapter 1

"_We are only clouds riding the wind; just water vapor in the sky. Until someone looks at us, seeing something that we didn't even know was there; that's when we become something worth being."_ – _Larry __"Rally" __Greenwich 11/30/2011 _

Saturday June 13, 2054

11:30am

Location: The Forge

The Forge, an 18,580 square meter addition to the sub levels of Lady 633, was built 30 meters below the Mecha Deuce Nightclub, granting the KnightSabers a massive amount of space to store all of the innumerable hard suits and accompanying motor slaves, while still allowing more than enough room to perform maintenance and repairs. It was here, that Caise would help out the engineers of the KnightSabers ranks with designing and constructing new prototype equipment.

Caise or rather, the Central Artificial Intelligence - Series Eight, couldn't have been happier when the addition was put in. The old sub basement was frankly too cramped for her enormous mainframe, which severely limited the amount of virtual space she could use and hampering her processing speed and available memory.

Currently, she had her cameras aimed at three men whose ages ranged from their mid thirties to late forties and were busy working on multiple armors that were laid out on work tables in various stages of disassembly. Their faces had the look of war weary veterans, yet somehow, they seemed happy as they would laugh at something one of them would say before turning back to their work.

A video stream popped up in Caise's peripheral view. In her virtual environment she had access to every data stream in the building, allowing her to know everything that was going on. A supped up purple motorcycle had turned in front of the garage entrance, or rather it appeared purple until a flash of light ran across the fairing, causing the color to shift with the light to a blue green color before quickly returning back to normal. Caise watched the rider; even under the biker leathers she could tell it was female. She calculated the height and mass, noting the brown hair that hung out from the bottom of the helmet.

The rider leaned over to a keypad sitting next to the door and entered in a code. A split second later Caise was presented with a confirmation of identity from a retina scan at the keypad. She opened the overhead door and closed the video stream while opening another program code. A series of bars that one would have assumed to have been lighting flashed to life as Caise materialized in the room, a mere meter from the three men.

In her chosen form, she appeared as a woman in her late twenties with a perfect figure, wearing business casual clothing, small framed glasses in front of her crystal blue eyes, and dark brown hair that was pulled up into a messy bun that was held in place by what appeared to be a rail gun spike.

"Excuse me gentlemen." Turning she looked to the oldest of the three as lines of code flashed through her eyes, "Bert, I thought you would like know that your daughter is on her way down."

He straightened up from the silver and blue hardsuit he was working on and wiped his hands on a towel before running a hand through the red thatch of hair that always seemed to be a mess. "Thank you Caise."

She gave a slight nod in response then turned one of the other men in the room, this one had short brown hair, brown eyes, and he was shorter than the other two, "Craig, the new rifle is complete and awaiting your inspection."

Looking up from where he was kneeling, "Thank you Caise, I'll look it over tomorrow morning."

Again she nodded, rapping her fingers across a tablet. She slowly disappeared as the elevator lowered into workshop, carrying the motorcycle and its rider. When it came to a halt the rider walked the bike off, just as the elevator lifted back into position.

Bert turned and strode over to her, "What brings you here on a Saturday morning, Pumpkin?"

"Seriously!?" She removed her helmet revealing the all too familiar to Bert, the sight of firey red-brown eyes, as she ran a hand through her long brown hair. "I'm sixteen; you think you can stop calling me by those childish nicknames, Dad?"

He gave a slight chuckle before replying, "What's the matter, still fuming about your speeding ticket last week? Sorry Yumeko, but you'll always be my little girl in my eyes." His face suddenly got the look of someone who had just realized how old they really were. He tried to shake it off, being only partly successful, "So, you were going to tell us why you're here."

"I have a report for my culture class, on major impacts of the twenty-first century. I wanted to write about the Spartans and their impact on Japan's restructure, but I'm having trouble with the research material."

"Well, maybe your Uncle Chris can give you some insight for your report. He was a Spartan, after all." Bert turned to gesture to the youngest of the three men, who stood up brushing the long blonde strands of hair away from his face.

He looked a little indecisive of something as he looked from Yumeko to Bert. "Are you sure you want me to give this history lesson? I mean, there are things that she may not want to hear; and I won't lie."

Bert nodded in agreement and understanding before turning back to his daughter, "Yume, you need to be sure that you want to hear this, as once the door is opened; there is no closing it. Some of these things may scare or anger you, so you need to be absolutely positive about this."

Yumeko bit her lower lip, thinking over what her father just told her. What could her Uncle possibly tell her that would make her frightened or worse; anger her? "Might as well find out now; going to find out eventually anyway."

Bert gave her a slight smile, as a small amount of pride in his daughter came to the surface, "That's my girl. Just like your mother to never back down from a challenge."

"Lets head over to the table; this is going to be a long story." He pointed to a table about three meters from where they were standing. As she made her way to the table, Chris waited till she was just out of earshot and looked to Bert with worry, "I sure hope you know what you're doing, because I'm not so sure."

Bert just smiled back "Trust me, she's my daughter."

Chris shook his head in amusement, before he joined Yume at the table. "I guess, i need to start at the beginning, before you were even born. Wednesday July 20, 2011; that's when this all began for the Spartans; that day I will never forget, I could never forget the day that jumped forward twenty-six years."

***Don Henley- The Boys of Summer***

Serenity Productions Presents

**_MegaTokyo 2037_ **

**_The Legacy of the Knight Sabers_**

** _Bubblegum Zone:_ Parabellum**

March 7, 2012 7:00pm

Location: Ontario, Canada

12km west of Cambridge

The sun is almost set, casting its last fiery glow upon the ON-401. A black 1967 Impala sedan cruises along the east bound lanes moving along with traffic, its headlights shining on the black pavement. Every so often the car would weave in and out around the slower drivers, if any of them were to look up long enough to notice the two men inside, the driver; looked to be in his mid-twenties with short cut dark brown hair, and the passenger, in his late teens with short dark blonde hair. Occasionally one of them would laugh, as they most likely carried on a casual conversation. The driver pulled a cigarette from its pack and lit it, taking a deep pull from it, he turned to his passenger.

"Okay," the smoke from the cigarette pulls out the window as he talks. "What are we going to do after our two tours of duty in the Marines?"

His friend took a swig from a black and green canned energy drink, quirking an eyebrow at him. "We could give bounty hunting a try, especially if we give Force Recon a go." He said with a grin.

The driver smirked at him "How about going mercenary? The pay is far better."

"Yeah, I'm sure our parents would've loved that. Can we worry about that after the trip, for now I just want to get to Bert's and enjoy Canada for a bit."

A loud rolling thunder brought the driver out of his next line of thought.

Bert closed the book he had been reading, glancing up at the clock. He'd spent most of the day cleaning up his basement apartment and packing for his trip. The last three hours he'd spent trying to relax with a good book, but he had promised Priss that he would see her show tonight and it was almost time for the crowds to start showing up. Besides, everyone else was most likely already there waiting for him. He shut the lights off as he shut the door, walking through the halls to his truck. Now that everything was finished, he would be able to relax with her for the day and a half before going on his vacation to Canada. He opened the door to his truck and climbed in. Shifting into gear; he began his drive to Hot Legs. With any luck he might be able to avoid any traffic.

"God, where did this storm come from?" the driver tried to avoid the other drivers on the 402 expressway; not actually expecting a reply from his passenger.

The weather had gone from an almost perfect day, to the storm of the century in the blink of an eye, it took everything he had just to keep the car from going into the ditch. Another flash of lightning blinded him for a split second; when his vision cleared that split second later he saw something that wasn't there before, the driver's side door of a red pick-up, "Oh Shit!" He almost stood on the brake while slapping the shifter down into low gear.

Bert had just turned onto the main road to Hot Legs, his mind not really on the task of driving, instead he was mentally ticking off all the different places he wanted to see in Canada. He wanted to see how much was different in this world compared to his own. A blinding flash in his peripheral vision caught his attention. His body acted on instinct as an unholy screech penetrated through the night. His foot slammed down on the brake, while he tried to steer away from the lights. The night became quiet again, save for the low rumble of two powerful engines, glancing down between the vehicles, he took notice that the two vehicles were a mere centimeter from each other. His eyes came up to the windshield of the other car and saw two men in the front seats; their faces the look of absolute dread… or was it fear. Realizing it was just a bunch of kids out probably joyriding, he let go of the pistol grip that he had unconsciously grabbed and slowly exhaled letting the tension of the near miss leave him.

"Stupid kids." Shifting his truck back into gear, he continued on his way, trying to shake the adrenaline rush from his body.

"God that was close. I would've hated to explain what's in the trunk to the police." The driver was visibly shaking, "Did you even see where that truck came from Chris?"

His passenger began looking around as the new surroundings were slowly sinking in, "Um…Rally, I don't think we're on the expressway. In fact I think we're in the downtown district."

"How the hell did we end up downtown!? We were just on the expressway." He turned the car down the same street that the pick-up had taken and pulled along the curb to try and get his thoughts together.

"Maybe we were hit by that last lightning strike and we veered off the highway?" Chris looked like he was frantically grasping at any theory he could come up with to explain their current situation.

"And what; drove on autopilot the last hundred or so miles to Waterloo before we woke up, fat chance on that idea bro." rubbing a hand over his eyes as his mind desperately tried to piece together a decent answer. "Not to mention the car is still running, I'm pretty sure a lightning strike would have killed it."

"Well, I've never even heard of something like this happening to anyone before. I say we forget about it until tomorrow when we've had a chance to calm down and think clearly."

"Yeah, I can go with that. Re-plot a course in the GPS to Bert's place from here. Maybe by the time we get there we can just… What?" his tone changed as he saw Chris looking none too happy at the screen in front of him.

"Well, if it wasn't a lightning strike, then something sure as hell screwed up the GPS. It's flat out refusing to locate…anything."

"Crap. Well, looks like we follow the old internal compass and hope that it didn't get messed up as well." Shifting the car back into drive he pulled away from the curb.

A heavy set older man makes his way through a parking garage, he's moving at a fast pace while his eyes flick back and forth, as if he's half expecting something to jump out and attack from the shadows. He comes up to a sleek looking older car; it looked to be well maintained as the light from the street lamps reflected off the flawless white paint. The lights flash as the car unlocked, he opened the door, tossing his briefcase inside, climbed inside and shut the door. Starting the engine and pulling out of the parking spot, he made his way to the exit on the lower level. He stopped just shy of the gatehouse, staring disbelievingly at the windows that are smeared with blood. The driver's side door is suddenly ripped from its hinges and tossed aside. He stares wide eyed at his attacker as a metallic blue hand grabs him by the shirt front and pulls him out of the car. "Dr. Krieger, I presume. You have an appointment that you are about to be late for." The boomer seemed to be almost smiling at him. A black car had come to a screeching halt in front of them. A man in a black jumpsuit hopped out and went to the passenger side of the doctor's car and retrieved the briefcase, while the boomer opened the back door to the black car and put the terrified man inside. The driver climbed back into the front seat, letting the tires spin, as the car launches forward leaving a set of black patches on the asphalt. The boomer took to the air as soon as the black car rounded a corner, disappearing into the night.

"We've been driving down this street for five minutes now, and I don't see an on ramp for the express way." Chris was staring out the passenger window at the night sky, this city seemed so different than any other that he'd seen, hell this place made Chicago look like a backwater village.

"Let's just go ask for…" the car suddenly stopping had caught him by complete surprise, as he thought they were about to be in another accident. "What the hell!? You mind giving a little warning."

"Sorry, I just couldn't pass up_ this_ bar." Rally was looking at a somewhat rundown brick building with a bright neon sign mounted above the door.

"Is that what I think it is? Does that sign say…Hot Legs?" Chris had to mentally agree, they just could not pass this up, even if they had to bribe the bouncer with half their vacation savings.

The black car turned into the lot across from the door, squeezing dangerously close between some cars and motorcycles before finally settling into a spot towards the back that provided enough room to open the doors. They climbed out while grabbing their coats from the back seat and shucked into them. They made their way through the throng of cars to the front entrance, stopping momentarily in front of a red car.

"Hey, Chris! Check this out!" Rally's eyes were unmoving from the sleek machine, "This looks like a…no, it couldn't be…a 1954 Mercedes 300SL!?"

His comrade had come back to where he was standing and looking at the body panels under close scrutiny in the dim lighting, "Nope afraid not, that or someone has more money than they know what to do with."

He had taken a step back, "The paint is enamel, not a lacquer. The glass like finish is proof of that, and the paint is the shade of lipstick; not exactly factory code for the time."

Rally nodded his head in agreement as a mischievous smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, "I guess you'd be the expert; on the shades of lipstick with all the girlfriends you've had."

"Ha ha… Maybe. Jealous much? Come on let's get inside while our luck is still in our favor." He replied with a smile.

Inside was packed with people, from the stage to the bar. Not wanting to press their luck, they took some seats at a table that was a bit a ways from the bar.

"Man, I cannot get over this place! It looks just like it did in the anime! I mean someone must really love that series, to produce a bar to this much detail." Rally was taking in as much of the bar as he could, almost as if it were going to disappear in front of him.

***Kinuko Ohmori- Kon'ya Wa Hurricane***

Chris merely nodded in stunned amazement, as a scantily clad blonde woman ran onto the stage, causing an immediate uproar from the bars patrons. The rest of the band soon followed her on stage, striking the chords for what the two of them considered to be the most infamous song, Kon'ya Wa Hurricane. Within seconds they were joining in with the rest of the crowd screaming and singing along…horribly, but enjoying themselves just the same.

The concert went on for an hour and a half but somehow felt like only fifteen minutes, the music had seemed to have stripped away the anxiety from the night's earlier events that Rally was feeling. They waited patiently for most of the people to clear out of the bar before getting up to leave. As he got up from the table something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye; a group of people were carrying on a conversation, they were too far away to make out any real details, but something about one of them was grabbing his attention and he had to forcibly pull his eyes away from the group.

The bar was buzzing with commotion, Priss had just finished her set and was most likely getting changed to spend the rest of the night with her friends and Bert. It had been a long time since Sylia had actually attended one of Priss' concerts and she was finding it actually quite relaxing despite the loud music. Some of the next suit upgrades were running through her mind when she caught the start of a discussion between Linna and Bert.

"So where were you going to be staying at while you're in Canada?" Linna was sipping at a glass of some kind of auburn colored liquor as she listened for Bert's reply.

"Well, I planned on just…." She didn't even hear his reply as an uneasy feeling crept up her back; like someone was watching her. Scanning through the throng of people looking around for the source of her discomfort, she caught sight of two men halfway between her and the bar. One of them; the one with darker hair seemed to be staring at her before he turned and made his way for the front entrance. A sudden feeling of unease overcame her, as though it were premonition of things to come. She kept her eyes on them as they made their way through all the people.

"Dude that was one of the best concerts I'd been to in a long time! Did you see the lead singer; she was a dead ringer for Priss and was she HOT!" Chris was almost jumping around as they walked back to their car, he was that excited from the concert. "I mean hell, she was even singing the songs in Japanese; how cool is that!"

Rally hadn't even noticed it, but now that he brought it up she did sing everything in Japanese yet he understood every word of it. He knew a bit, but not that much, "What the hell is going on!?"

Before Chris could question what he was talking about a loud burst of static blared from one of the cars nearby.

"Attention all units, boomer sighted in District 3 heading south towards the Bayshore area. Type is believed to be the new A-12 model. Armored troopers are en route."

This time both of them caught on to the fact the dispatcher was speaking in Japanese, yet they understood him perfectly. They walked over to the source of the radio transmission while trying to come up with an answer to their sudden ability.

"Uhhh, Chris? Isn't that an... ADP Interceptor sitting there?" Fear was tinged in the words, as a mental picture of a group of people sitting around a table enjoying themselves crept up. "Oh. Bloody. Hell. Chris, get in the car. Now."

"What is it? Dude, what's wrong?" He was moving on autopilot back to the car, trying hard not to panic.

Rally was into the driver seat and starting up the car, "Think about it, Hot Legs night club; the lead singer; boomers; the AD Police; and the sudden understanding of a foreign language that the both of us have only a slight knowledge of. Come to think of it a group of people with two very specific red heads, one of them standing at a very close six foot four."

The realization hit Chris like a ton of bricks, "OK. So I understand the sudden panic, but why the need to get out of here?"

"Because…." He wasn't even close to finishing his answer when an explosion ripped through the building about two hundred meters in front of them. As the fireball dissipated into the air a large red mechanical monstrosity flew through the hole that it just created, skidding to a halt along the asphalt.

"Because an A-12 combat boomer is on its way here." The flat tone of his voice made it sound like he was discussing the weather. They watched as people scrambled about trying to get away from their impending doom; a few weren't as lucky, as they were turned into nothing more than bloody smears on the street. Apparently some of the night clubs attendees had taken notice of the noise and destruction and began fleeing from the building. A woman trying to sneak by the insane machine was grabbed and was slowly getting torn apart.

"Ahhh, this sucks." Tabbing a switch on the dash board, he climbed out of the car and quickly made his way to the rear where the trunk lid was softly bouncing. Opening the lid completely to see the contents, he started moving things aside trying to locate the item of interest.

Chris had joined him a second later, "What stupidity are you planning? That's a top end combat boomer; we don't even know if we own anything that can be used against a... Boomer… Crap… You're using the Beast; aren't you?"

His theory was confirmed as Rally pulled out a massive rifle that had to probably top out at four feet long. His other hand held onto its clip, checking its contents, he slapped it into the bottom of the rifle.

"OK, well... You'll need a spotter then." Pulling a very large scope from the confines of the trunk, Chris set it alongside the rifle on the roof of the car.

***AC/DC – Shoot to Thrill***

They both nearly jumped as the music started playing from the cars speakers, Rally had forgotten in all the excitement, that he'd turned the ignition to standby. Glancing back at the boomer; which had now closed the gap to about a hundred meters, they both let out a sigh of relief as it apparently hadn't noticed them.

Pulling their wits back together, Rally pulled the rifle into his shoulder. Sighting through the scope mounted on it, the boomer seemed to be almost standing right in front of him.

"Which ammo are you loaded with?" Chris didn't even pull away from his scope, being intent on locating a weak point in the armor.

"The last of the Ex-wives." A grin slowly pulled at Chris' mouth at Rally's reply.

"Heh... Of course you would use that... Why I bothered to even ask..."

Another group of people were trying to make their way out of the building, occasionally blocking the shot. Apparently the boomer had become enamored with the destruction of Hot Legs, and the patrons were all too willing to try and get away from the behemoth.

"Rally, about three meters in front of the boomer; is that who I think it is?"

Adjusting his angle to locate the person in question, he caught a glimpse through the mass of people; someone with a red thatch of hair was attempting to escort about six women from the building. In his hand was a large semiautomatic pistol of some kind. The boomer had also taken notice, as it began to open its maw, preparing to fire its particle laser. Chris had turned back to the boomer and quickly deemed the weakest point.

"Shit! Target at eighty meters, elevation is at two and a half meters. FIRE!"

Chris covered his ears on his final command, as an explosion erupted from the end of the barrel, followed by screeching metal as the gun's bipod mount dug into the roof of the car.

Bert peered around the corner of the night club looking for a clear path to safety. He caught a glimpse of the red machine and his grip tightened on the pistol that he'd drawn when someone had screamed boomer.

"It figures. Try to relax before I leave and a combat boomer decides to go on a rampage not even a mile from me." He turned to the rest of the party trying to look reassuring, but failing miserably. An

A-12 is not something to be taken lightly, especially when you're not in a hardsuit. They needed to get away and the only path was directly in front of it. He was trying to find a way to make sure they wouldn't be noticed, when Leon came out from the bar.

"What have we got Bert?" Opening his revolver to make sure it was fully loaded with the sixty caliber armor piercing rounds and slapping it closed.

"Looks to be the new A-12 model and the only clear escape path is directly in front of it." The faces of the rest of the group were on the border of complete confusion, the two men were carrying on as if they did this everyday together.

Leon spared a quick glance at the weapon in Bert's hand, "Is that gun going to be effective against this grade of boomer?"

"Not sure, haven't tried before."

"Well backup is still ten minutes away, so here's the plan. I'll draw its fire while you make a run for it."

"I'm not going to leave you to die! Everybody is going to make it out of here. Got it?" The grim determination on his face said volumes about how he felt.

"Fine." Glancing at the parking lot, "I take it that's your truck?"

Bert gave a quick nod as his only answer.

"Make a run for it, when you get there, start your truck; then you can provide me with some covering fire. My cruiser is right over there." Pointing to a spot about three rows behind Sylia's car, "Now, RUN!"

As soon as they had broken cover, Bert realized that the boomer had moved closer to them. Behind them he could see Leon angle himself around the corner to line up a shot. He could hear a faint whine rising in volume as they ran, the boomer was charging up its particle laser.

"Shit." He spared a glance over his shoulder.

"FIRE!" Bert heard the barked command a second before a deafening explosion reverberated off the buildings, followed closely by the boomers face exploding out the back of its cranial casing. Almost instantly the remains of the head erupted in an impressive pyrotechnics display.

The group stared in stunned disbelief as the boomer teetered on its feet before another shot tore a large ragged hole through its torso, sending it off its feet to land about five meters away.

Bert and Sylia turned to locate where the shots had come from, only to see an ancient looking black sedan tear out of the parking lot and disappear into the maze of the downtown district.

"Fuck! I think I dislocated my shoulder, if not worse." Rally was barely able to voice his pain through clenched teeth, as he kicked the dashboard trying desperately not to pass out.

"Well, you want to explain to me why we're running?" Chris had taken to the driver's seat as the second shot went off. He knew he sounded callous but his adrenaline was pumping on overdrive. "That was the KnightSabers, yes? Isn't that who we want to be with right now? They can help us."

Rally fumbled with the cars seat belt but finally managed to get it secured with just his one good arm.

"Maybe, but the AD Police were on the way; they don't normally like people toting anti-material rifles around the city, and I don't think our firearms permit for it will hold up. Like hell I want to spend the rest of my natural existence in a strait jacket surrounded by padded walls. As for the KnightSabers, I don't want to bother Sylia. It's not her job to take in the strays." The jostling around by Chris' driving was aggravating his shoulder, causing him to start to lose his battle with remaining conscious. His eyelids started feeling heavy; and before he knew it, the battle was lost.

Red lights flashed across the interior of the car, looking in the rear view mirror Chris saw the distinctive strobe lights of police cruisers. He knew how Rally was going to feel about abusing the car.

***Soil- Black Betty***

"I know you're going to hate me for this bro but I don't see any other choice." Pulling the shifter into a lower gear and flipping a switch on the console labeled 'Blockade Runner' and patting the dashboard, "Alright baby, let's see if you've still got it."

Punching the accelerator down and spinning the wheel, the car slammed into a clean drift narrowly avoiding other drivers on the road, leaving patches of rubber and smoke on the pavement. He pulled out of the slide and looked behind them to find the cruisers were indeed keeping pace. "Damn it, should've known better."

The front end unloaded the suspension as all 900 horses roared to life, weaving through traffic he began looking for a way out of this mess. He swung the car around one of the slower moving vehicles on the road and shifted into a higher gear. Two squad cars had somehow gotten around and in front, pinching the road down to only a small amount of room. He aimed for the dead center of the opening, smashing the two cars out of the way. Plastic and metal from the two cruisers flew in all directions as they spun around.

Turning down a side street, he began scanning through the street signs hoping for anything. His prayers were answered; one of the signs pointed to the Bayshore 1 expressway. He down shifted two gears while turning hard on the wheel. The car slid through the traffic of the intersection, barely avoiding other motorists and causing a few pile ups. Perfect, it was a straight shot to the expressway; he could see some of the cruisers had made it through the clog of traffic. Shifting gears he tried to gain some distance from his pursuers and was succeeding, but more police tried to block his path.

"Damn," he shook his head side to side, "these guys just don't know when to quit."

Spinning the car around to distract them and slammed the shifter into reverse, managing to thread the space between the two oncoming cars. Once through, he spun the car back around as two loud impacts sounded that the squads had been wrecked. He stomped back onto the accelerator, intent on getting to the Bayshore. The police were still behind them but they were starting to lose ground, a smile played at his mouth which grew even wider when the on ramp for the upper deck of Bayshore 1 came into view, but it quickly faded.

Some of the cruisers had suddenly accelerated and were gaining fast. Flipping three switches on the center console causing a message to appear on the main center screen, 'Stages 1, 2, &3 Armed'. He placed his thumb over a button on the shifter and pulled the car in line with the on ramp. Looking in the mirror showed that the police had followed suit, but what concerned him the most were the flashing red lights at the top of the on ramp. His choices were not great, hell they weren't even good. He settled into a grim determination, shifted into a higher gear and floored the accelerator.

The ramp came up fast, almost too fast for his liking; six police cruisers were at the top to greet him. Lined up in a staggered road block pattern, meant to provide maximum strength and stop a car in its tracks. The pursuing cruisers had fallen back to block off any chance for him to turn around.

Half way up the on ramp he squeezed the button down, the engine roared with all the primal fury of a caged beast as blue flames erupted from the exhaust that came out in front of the rear axle. Tires squealed as they engulfed themselves in smoke and the front of the car just about came off the ground as the speedometer surged to 180 mph. A warning message popped up on the center screen, 'Warning: Over Boost, Warning: Over Boost'.

"God, please don't explode." Looking at Rally's unconscious form in the passenger seat, "and if we survive this, please don't kill me."

The officers standing around the road block scattered in all directions as the massive black car accelerated like a rocket towards them. Keeping the pedal firmly planted to the floor, the sedan reached the top of the on ramp and left the earth behind as it launched over the top of cruisers, tearing off one of the squad's emergency lights with the rear bumper. The car came down with an eardrum shattering shriek and a flurry of sparks as the frame contacted with the pavement, causing the car to bounce and lose traction. Chris fought to keep the car under control as it swayed from side to side, pulling the wheel to the left and right trying to counter steer against the rear end. Finally he managed to get it straight and leave the police behind in complete disarray.

Looking over at his passenger and quietly uttering a silent prayer; he'd somehow managed to stay unconscious during the entire ordeal, which meant the injury had to be more serious than a dislocated shoulder. It'd have to wait till they could find a safe place to hide so he could inspect Rally's injury, as well as the damage to the Impala.

The evening sun was casting its fiery glow across the skyscrapers of MegaTokyo, creating a very serene look to the city. It was about a half hour before closing and Sylvie had decided to get an early start on straightening up the store. It had been awhile since she and Priss went for a ride, and it was starting to eat at her. She knew it wasn't anyone's fault; their lives had just become so hectic of late. She was making her way to the front of the store when a very large and old looking sedan pulled along the curb.

The driver climbed out of what she had assumed was the passenger side; he was about five foot ten or so and appeared to be somewhere in his late teens. Great another one trying his luck, she thought sourly to herself. As he opened the door she put on the best smile she could, trying to at least give him a chance in case he was an actual customer. Noting that he looked rather nervous, scanning the entire store looking for something, or someone, as he walked over to her.

"Hello sir! Welcome to the Silky Doll. Can I help you find anything?" the greeting flowed from her lips, like it had done about a million times before.

He finally stopped to actually look at her; eyes going wide to the point of almost being comical. Then forcibly seemed to squash his reaction and returned to his nervous looking state.

"Um, actually I was hoping to talk to Sylia, if that's okay?" He kept looking back to his car.

"I'm sorry Ms. Stingray is not here today. Can I pass on a message to her?" This was getting weird; almost nobody came in here looking for Sylia.

"Uhhhh…" He stood there as if trying to come up with a reply, while searching the shop again. About a minute had gone by and she was starting to get impatient when he finally gave an answer.

"Okay, look I don't have time for passing messages in secret; my brother is badly hurt and needs help. So if you would please just call up her penthouse; or the shop and get her in here." He seemed to be getting worked up as he went, but she dealt with rude customers before and like hell was she going to take this lying down.

"Now look here buddy." She didn't even get to finish.

"Trust me; I know what I'm doing." She was caught completely off guard. "That is what Bert; I mean SkyKnight would say to you, right? Now, I hate being rude to a woman of your caliber, but you're not leaving me with much of a choice." Words had completely escaped her; she quickly picked up the phone and dialed the number to the shop.

Sylia watched the nervous looking young man as he stared at his friend on the table. His blonde hair was an absolute mess, what was strange was that he had referred to the patient as his brother but she didn't see the similarity. The man on the table was about six foot one, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and almost a full beard. The other stood at about five foot ten, blonde hair, and blue eyes and looked to be struggling to grow facial hair. She didn't see it at all. Her uncle was examining his unconscious patient; even completely out of it he would grit his teeth as the doctor prodded his left shoulder.

He started to cut away his patients shirt, revealing a very well sculpted body that would be right at home on an athlete. A large tattoo occupied the left side of his chest. It appeared to be a Roman helmet surrounded by some writing around the helmet. Only when her uncle finally cut all the way up and spread the shirt open did she almost lose her demeanor, for on the patients left shoulder had to be one of the nastiest looking bruises she'd seen in a long time and the bones didn't look quite right.

"Oh my God!" Sylvie had evidently caught sight of his shoulder. Having locked up the store early and helped carry the patient from the car that was now parked in the garage.

"He has a broken collar bone. How did this happen?" Her uncle was staring at the young man over his glasses.

"Rifle recoil." Chris's eyes only briefly glanced at the doctor.

The doctor looked skeptically to Sylia, "Must have been a big rifle. I've seen a lot of firearm mishandling in my days but this; this is the worst I've seen outside of gunshot wounds. This looks more like he got into a boxing match with a boomer."

"Seventy caliber, now can you just fix him up. Please?"

"I was going to, but knowing what caused the injury usually helps. So why did you come here instead of going to a hospital?" his eyes didn't leave the patient as he injected a clear liquid into the patients shoulder.

"Well, didn't really have to many options; going to a hospital would most likely have us leaving there in handcuffs, if not being escorted by the men in white coats. So that was out of the question, we didn't have the proper currency or possibly enough money to afford a clinic, with again probably the same outcome. That left coming here; which means he is going to be very angry when he wakes up; he didn't want me to bring him here, said 'He didn't want to bother you, and it wasn't your job to take in the strays.'" He turned to Sylia at the last of his statement.

Sylia raised an eyebrow as he finished, "Which brings up the question of, just how it is that you know me. I don't recall ever meeting either one of you."

Chris sat there fidgeting, he found Sylia to be quite imposing in real life, "Well, he's got most of the answers for you. His information, about you and your friends, makes my knowledge look like it was written in crayon; and technically we have met, although not formally, two nights ago outside of Hot Legs."

Sylia tried remembering the details of that night; she remembered seeing two men who could have been them. She also recalled the combat boomer at the end of the night, which had very nearly killed her and the rest of them; had it not been for some unforeseen benefactor in a… black sedan. Her eyes returned to the man before her.

"So explain to me why I shouldn't turn you over to the AD Police?"

Sylvie regarded Sylia wondering what it was that she was after; as she was playing this really close to the chest. She had never seen her act this way before.

"Does saving your arse qualify for buying some time; at least until he wakes up? As he really is the one you need to talk to; he knows everything about all of you, probably knows your height, weight, and measurements." He reached into his back pocket, coming up with a wallet and tossed it to Sylia. "If anything, that should at least keep you interested."

Opening the wallet, she scanned through the contents until she came to the identification. She could actually feel the color drain from her face. No! Not again… not with two of them. She swore that some deity must have it in for her, it took three years and a *lot* of close calls with death to get Bert to straighten up. She didn't think she was going to be able to handle this again.

"You just bought yourself the time." She turned to her uncle, who had just finished wrapping the patients shoulder, "Is he capable of being moved?"

"He can be moved, but no lifting for at least two weeks." He seemed to be talking to both Sylia and Chris.

"Yea! Right! Try telling HIM that when he wakes up..." He replied.

"You can both stay upstairs; where it's easier to keep an eye on you." The way she stated it made everything crystal clear…she didn't trust them in the slightest.

"Um, while we're on the subject; I've been evading police for two days and frankly I'm starting to offend myself, would it be alright if I could borrow your shower?"

Next Morning

Consciousness slowly worked its way into Rally's mind, he couldn't really see anything too clearly, but he could hear an occasional rustle of pages being turned. His shoulder felt like it was tightly wrapped in some kind of material; god it hurt like hell. He blinked trying to clear his vision; it worked for the most part. The rays of morning sunlight streamed in through a window revealing the bed, a table with some flowers on it, and a chair; with someone idly reading a newspaper. It looked like the quintessential guest room in most homes. He shifted a bit, causing the sheets to ruffle; it did not go by unnoticed. He was greeted by a soft feminine voice that seemed to somehow exude authority, yet was one of the most pleasant sound he'd heard in a long time.

"Good morning and welcome back the land of the conscious." She gave pause for a moment to let things sink in; as she got out of the chair and walked over to the bedside, "Apparently you and I have some things to discuss." The tone in her voice seemed more demanding than questioning.

Standing next to the bed, he was able to see her clearly; beautiful, that was the only word that came to mind. With soft features and short cut raven black hair, she was dressed very business- like; a skirt that stopped just above her knees and a blouse that stopped at the midriff, over that was a blue suit jacket. The wardrobe looked vaguely familiar to him, but it was her brown eyes that seemed to draw him. It was impossible to look away even though she had the posture of someone who was owed; her eyes spoke of the heart behind the appearance. She didn't look at all like a nurse or doctor; at least not one he's ever met, and she definitely did not match what his mind would identify as a commanding officer.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? I'm pretty sure I would remember… a woman as beautiful as you." She didn't at all appear to be amused, but couldn't quite keep her face from flushing slightly. "Honestly; I feel like I'm drunk… and I just don't know if you're real or if I'm hallucinating." A sudden bout of uncontrolled laughter came from the other side of the open door. He could hear some feminine voices come from just beyond.

"He…he just…made a pass at Sylia, and doesn't even realize it!" It was drowned out as the laughing continued.

A sudden wave of memory washed over him; looking back to the woman in the room as he sat straight up; or rather half way up, as it was at that point when his body decided to send further confirmation of his injuries to his nervous system. "ARGH! Son of a…" The shooting pain caused him snap forward the rest of the way. He suddenly remembered everything that had happened as he grasped his shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that again. You have a broken collar bone, so you need to just take it easy." She tried to ease him back down, but he held firm to his position.

"No; I'm already up this far, and besides I've slept longer than I should have. I get…I don't do well when I oversleep." Gently he brushed her hand aside, "Where is my brother?"

"Right here." Chris was leaning against the door frame, trying desperately to smother the grin that seemed to be plastered to his face, "So; after being out cold for three days, you wake up; and decide the first thing you need to do is hit on Sylia."

Rally rolled his eyes as he looked up at him, "Ass." He waved his hand; gesturing for Chris to give him a hand up.

"That was definitely the most ballsy I've seen you; I mean you just came right out with it. No flowers. No, hey how you doing. Nothing." Chris was enjoying himself way too much for his taste.

"Oh, stow it will you. You're still on the shit list for coming here."

Chris helped him to stand, making sure to be careful not to pull too hard. After a few seconds; he got his bearings, making his way out of the guest room, followed closely by Chris and Sylia. He found himself in, what he guessed was the main living room; it was decorated quite nicely with some easy chairs and sofas in the center around a coffee table. On the wall, the one shared with the guestroom; hung a very large monitor with some other miscellaneous pieces of equipment below that. It looked very much like what it was; an upper end penthouse condo.

Sitting around the coffee table were five of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen in one room at the same time; even if they were gasping for air. He stood there, waiting for them to gain some semblance of self- control, but it was not to be. Any time one of them would even glance in his general direction, they would break into a fit of giggling again. He was slowly getting very agitated; most likely brought on from over sleeping.

"Ladies; we have some important matters to discuss. So if you could control yourselves please." Sylia was sitting in what he assumed to be her customary chair; a slight smile showing but it disappeared as soon as he looked in her direction. "Larry, if you would please begin." She gestured for him to give his explanation as he cringed at his name.

"Sure, well let me see. Uh, well..." He ran his available hand over the lower half of his face. "Chris, how much have you already said?" turning slightly to look at him.

"He was extremely vague. Insisting that it should be you we talk to; only providing your identifications." He could see that Sylia had assumed her calm reserve again.

"Ugh, god you are so useless sometimes." Rubbing a hand across his eyes in frustration, something in his mind finally clicked,

"Hey, you wanna cut me some slack there pal, was a little more worried about you at the time. Besides, you're the one with the OCD on the subject. I'm just along for the ride." Chris replied sarcastically.

"Yea, yea... Wait… Where's Bert? I really don't want to have to go over this twice."

After what seemed like a few minutes Sylia finally gave a reply. "He's on vacation, for the next eight weeks; but how do you know Bert, is he a friend of yours?"

"Sort of; I just talked to him through e-mail occasionally. We were on our own vacation to Canada, before we had to ship out towards the end of 2012, to see him face to face for the first time; when all *this* happened."

"You're lying; you have to be. Bert has been here for the past three years, and he left home in…um, 1995." Apparently, Priss was not going to be easy to convince, if the way she was looking at him had any indication.

"Well then; this should be interesting. Sylia, do you happen to have a Blu-ray player? It might make some things easier to explain."

The look on Sylia's face was very difficult to read, but he was sure he could see puzzlement hidden behind her calm face, "I'm sorry, a what?"

"A Blu-ray or DVD player."

"I'm afraid that I have no idea to what you are referring." Her features were exactly what he expected; completely honest.

"Well; I guess I should have expected this much." Running his hand over his face, despite having close to thirty- six hours of sleep; he felt tired. He turned to his brother, "Chris?"

He nodded, "The box?"

"Yea, and you might as well bring up everything else while you are at it. And don't forget my cigarettes!"

"You know I'm gonna get you to quit." He replied laughing. "Besides, when have I ever forgotten your smokes?" Chris replied as he levered himself up from the wall he was leaning against, and made his way out of the apartment.

"Shut up and go, would you." Rally threw the command as Chris was walking out. "I might as well tell you about us while he's getting everything. My name is Larry Greenwich but my friends call me Rally, and that was Christopher Graunke; we're nineteen and eighteen respectively."

"I thought you two were brothers; and like I'd believe that you're nineteen, you look more like you're twenty-five, at least." Priss noted.

"He is nineteen; if I do the math from what he's saying." Nene was looking at their IDs in her hand. She'd been assigned the task of determining the authenticity; again.

"I guess you could put it down as that we are brothers of the spirit. The only ancestry we share, is that both of our families were Marines; other than that; nothing. We've know each other since we were in elementary school and been brothers since. About the time we turned teenagers, we had started going to the Marine Corps boot camp for eight weeks out of the summer. We already knew we were not meant for civilian work, so we decided to try and get a head start with the Marines. The only reason we were permitted to do this; was that our fathers had become friendly with the base commander, and it was kind of known that our families were interwoven with the armed services." He stopped as Chris came in, setting down the large items in his arms within easy reach.

He walked over to Rally, handing him his cigarettes and lighter. Glancing at Sylia for permission and seeing that it was ok, he pulled one from the pack and lit it. He took a deep pull from it before scratching his head and continued his story, while Chris worked at hooking up a portable DVD player to the large monitor.

"We built our first guns about four years ago; with help from the gunsmith on base. About two years ago we designed and built the rifle that saved your lives." Reaching down he pulled up a monster of a rifle, setting it on his lap, "The Beast; a seven shot, clip fed, seventy caliber tank destroyer. It's constructed mostly of titanium and carbon fiber, including its solid titanium barrel. It used to fire the seven hundred nitro express round and now it fires these." He pulled on the lever action allowing the rifle to eject a very strange looking round.

It looked to be a pointed cylinder made of steel, about three-quarters of an inch thick, with flutes running down the length, ending with some ports on the back side. He handed it to Sylia, "It's a kinetic- kill, sidewinder vehicle with a secondary cyclotrimethylene-trinitramine RDX burst."

She looked up from the projectile in her hand, "That is quite the mouthful."

Chuckling a bit, "Yeah, I guess it is; that's why it's called the Ex-wife."

She raised an eyebrow questioningly, mirrored by the rest of the women.

"Because no matter what you give 'her; she still leave nothing behind." Chris replied to the unspoken question with a chuckle; having finished hooking up the DVD player. Sitting down next to Rally, he took the large rifle from him and laid it on the floor.

"We're all set." Pressing a button on a small remote, the little player hummed to life sending the information on the disc it contained to the large monitor.

Sylia picked up the control in front of her; turning on the monitor, closing the blinds, and dimming the lights slightly. The speakers cracked a little, before music started to filter through them, announcing the different producers and property owners.

"What is this? We want an explanation, not movie night." Priss blurted out from the corner of the couch.

"If you give me a minute; I will explain. This is what Bert was referring to when he arrived here." As he paused the infamous chords for Kon'ya Wa Hurricane began to flow from the speakers. "Essentially this is the story of your Earth; the way it would have been, if Bert had not shown up to alter everything." They watched in slack jawed disbelief as their lives of before Bert, played on the screen; it was as if someone had been following them around with a video camera; recording everything without their knowledge. At the end of the first episode, the lights came back to their full illumination.

Sylia had to fight to remain expressionless, it was more unsettling than she'd imagined it would be; after a few moments she regarded the two men in the room, "That was a little…I honestly don't have a way to describe how this feels, but it still does not explain how it is that you know Bert."

"Bubblegum Crisis is a cult classic where we come from; so much so that it spurred the creation of one of the largest digital libraries of fan-fiction; and where we come from SkyKnight is a part of that fan-fiction; one of the best that I've ever read actually." He pulled a large binder from the box; that had to be at least five inches thick. On the front was a picture of Sylia, Priss, Nene, and Linna in various stages of reactions to the imposing suit of armor behind them. It stood proudly with its arms crossed as if daring an adversary to a challenge. Sylia was almost afraid to open the binder; and in fact found herself wishing that this was all just a horrible dream.

She was suddenly joined by the rest of the KnightSabers as she opened the binder and began to read. Rally took the last pull from his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ashtray on the table, waiting patiently for them to finish.

Minutes passed into hours as they flipped through page after page of their life; Sylia had to finally force herself to put the binder down. Her fears, quickly hiding behind her usual calm; unfortunately the other women are not so adept at concealing their emotions. They looked to them as if they'd just told them they had twenty-four hours to live; a mix of despair and hatred.

"What!? Why are you looking at us like that? You asked for an explanation and we gave it; with the evidence."

"You basically just showed us that we are nothing more than pen and paper; that we don't decide anything. That it's all been predetermined by someone; someone that we have never met." Linna couldn't control the tears that started to stream down her face.

"THAT'S HORSESHIT!" Rally screamed, causing almost everyone to jump. He had been afraid this was going to happen; it was the main reason he did not want to come here in the first place. "What I've shown you is that your lives inspire people where we come from; that people strive to make a difference in the lives of others because of you." He fought to reign himself in; if he kept going at this

rate he would end up back in the infirmary. The sharp movements were causing stabbing pains in his collar bone.

"As well written as that story is, did you not notice the gaps; the gaps that span days; even sometimes weeks at a time; it's those gaps that prove that your lives matter and are yours to decide, not someone else's. They are not writing about what you are going to do; they're writing about what you've done."

Out of the corner of his vision, he could swear he saw Sylia trying to smother a smile. The rest of the women seemed to contemplate what he'd said for a minute, before Nene piped up.

"Do you truly believe that?" Wiping her eyes on the back of her uniform sleeve.

He let out a deep sigh; it'd been a long day, and it wasn't even over, "We are only clouds riding the wind; just water vapor in the sky. Until someone looks at us, seeing something that we didn't even know was there; that's when we become something worth being. Yes, I honestly do believe it. If I didn't, we would have shown up days ago after putting down that A-12."

His stomach suddenly growled, reminding everyone that he hadn't eaten in nearly three days. On the positive side it seemed to improve everyone's mood, as they started to giggle again.

"Alright, I think that is enough for now ladies." Sylia had gotten up from her seat, and saw everyone out. "Now that that's over with; how about we go grab some lunch? My treat."

"I'm not complaining, my stomach is, but I'm not." Reaching into one of the duffel bags that Chris had brought up, he pulled out a flannel shirt and tried to pull it on with some difficulty. His shoulder did just not want to cooperate with him. Sylia finally came over and helped him get the shirt on and button it up, causing him to flush a bit from the proximity. "Thanks." He began to turn a little red in the face.

"So; you seem pretty wise for a nineteen year old. Not many people could pull off a morale speech like that." She looked at him as she shut the door. Just before the door clicked shut there was a remark heard through the crack.

"Trust me; I know what I'm doing. Sorry, I couldn't resist."

He'd lost track of time awhile ago; he knew it had to of been at least a couple of days since his assailants had taken him. Dr. Krieger sat on the edge of the cot; trying to sort through his memories. After being tossed in a car, they had thrown a bag over his head and bound his wrists; at that point he'd thought they were going to kill him. They drove for what seemed like hours, before practically dragging him through some hallways and tossed him into a cell. Not long after someone wearing a mask cut him loose and set some food on the only table in the small room. His mind had started running rampant, wondering as to just what did they plan to do with him. The door to the room creaked open as one of the guards stepped through, followed closely by a tall blonde haired man. His suit was clean and appeared to fit the man like a glove, but he looked like he'd just gotten out of a warzone; his face was covered in spots with minor burns and scratches. He also noted that his left arm was in a sling; completely hidden from view. Behind him was a blue colored boomer; a fifty-five series combat class, he noted absently as his captor took a seat in the one chair in the room.

"Hello Dr. Krieger, I understand you've developed a new boomer that could destroy a Doberman in a minute and a half; and I understand you developed it for Russia." A smile appeared on the man's face, and it was not good; in fact it had turned 's blood ice cold.

He could barely get his mouth to co-operate, "Who…who are you, and what do you want with me?"

"My name is Ethan Hollister; and what I want is your abilities. I have a project that needs your guidance." Setting a small clear container on the table, it looked to be possibly magnetically sealed, but what was really interesting were the contents. Inside of the cylinder looked to be a metallic green liquid that seemed to be moving of its own accord; and not sloshing about like a normal liquid would be. Ethan's smile seemed to grow wider as the Doctor became mesmerized by the contents.

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

Yumeko sat at the table rubbing her temples, trying to comprehend everything she'd just heard from her uncle, who was currently sitting across from her. He didn't look like he was enjoying this at all, having to relive his old memories.

"So let me get this straight; Uncle Rally, you, and my father are from another dimension; where none of this exists?" She looked at him disbelievingly.

"So am I; although, I'm actually two dimensions displaced." Craig hadn't even looked up from his suit.

"Huh!? What the hell, is there no man qualified enough for the KnightSabers in this dimension? You're messing with me right?"

"Sorry Yumeko, but it's the truth." Bert had knelt down beside her. "We tried to warn you about the implications of what you wanted to know."

"Heh, whatever you guys are smoking, you need to start sharing." Yumeko sat there shaking her head.

"We're getting off topic here." Chris took a sip from his coffee before he continued. "About six weeks later Rally began having…what he would've deemed nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Yume couldn't quite understand his meaning.

"You see, since he was around six years old he'd been having them."

"Big deal, so has everyone else in the world."

"No, you misunderstand me. The nightmares that; you, your father, myself, and everyone else in the world have is what he used to dream about every night, and I do mean 'every' night. Blood, guts, torture, and the occasional brown furry alien with a strange appetite for cats, that was normal for him. The stuff that woke him up in the middle of the night feeling lost and confused, those were his nightmares."

Rally blocked another kick sent his way from Sylia, as a slight twinge shot through his shoulder. The doctor gave him a clean bill about six weeks ago and since then he'd been getting up at 4:30 in the morning to go workout with her.

He found it strange that nobody else woke up this early to come with, well sort of strange; he seemed to gain a certain amount of energy after the workouts. He brought his mind back to the task at hand, in time to catch the beginnings of a combination attack; he parried a punch, ducked the other, and blocked a reverse roundhouse, as he left the mats to avoid the sweep that followed; she delivered a blow directly to his sternum while he was still in the air. Twisting his body to the right slightly to protect his other shoulder, he landed with a loud 'thud'.

Picking himself up off the mats, he stood to his full height and stretched his arms out to his back, causing an audible 'pop' from where she hit him. She visibly cringed at the sound and then relaxed.

"That's enough for now, we've been here for almost an hour already; and would you please stop that? It just sounds…wrong." She walked off the mats and took a seat on one of the benches.

*** Warrant – Cherry Pie! ***

Rally took a spot next to her, taking a drink from his water bottle. He watched her out of the corner of his eye; she was wearing some cut down sweats that showed off a lot of her toned body, he didn't even have a chance beforehand to even take notice; but now that he wasn't defending himself from her, he was getting a complete eyeful. He'd never read about or seen her dress like this before and he had to forcibly stop himself, before his mind started to get on even more inappropriate topics than it already was; his face was most likely already flush.

"So; have you eaten anything for breakfast yet? I'm starving and still have at least two hours before I have to start the day."

He'd sworn he saw something in her eyes but tried to chalk it up to his overactive imagination, "Uh, yeah; I could definitely go for something to eat." He tried desperately to get his mind back under control, but was having very little success.

She took hold of his hand and led him out of the gym and into her condo. Wait a minute!? When did she have a gym put in next to her place?

"Well; you know where the shower is, so go get cleaned up." She jerked a thumb towards the bathroom.

Running the shower to get the water hot, he thought it better and turned back to cold, _Maybe that will get my subconscious to shut up_. He stripped down and climbed in, almost screaming from how cold it was and decided to warm it up a bit. He'd washed the sweat from himself, rinsed off, and was about to turn off the shower. He felt two warm feminine arms wrap around him, causing his body to lock up from shock.

"It's not fair that, Priss gets to have her needs taken care of."

He felt her hands slide along his chest, past his abs and right down to….

_Serenity Productions Presents_

_MegaTokyo 2037_

_The Story of the Knight Sabers_

**_Bubblegum Zone:_ Parabellum**

_Yumeko: "GOD! Seriously, I can't know that!"_


End file.
